


of something forever felt but never heard

by you_explode



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Bodyswap, Canon Compliant, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Woke Up A Girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:11:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_explode/pseuds/you_explode
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry goes to sleep wishing he was a girl. He wakes up in a world where he's always been one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of something forever felt but never heard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soleilouis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleilouis/gifts).



> this definitely got away from me /o\ 
> 
> a million thanks to [Vera](http://beyouandiforever.tumblr.com) for the beta, hand-holding and general loveliness. title from this blackest purse by why?. 
> 
> happy holidays!

They’re in Australia, and it’s after another day of interviews, another day where the band are split up because apparently nobody can trust him and Louis together in front of cameras anymore. Harry’s curled up in bed with Louis in their hotel room and today he’d been shown pictures of himself and his boyfriend in a bloody magazine and he’d had to deny it, without Louis even there to take the pressure off, and he’s tired. He’s _so tired_.

He’s got his face tucked into Louis’s neck, Louis’s fingers stroking through his hair, and Harry just. He’s so over all of it. It’d seemed like a good idea to begin with; they’d all been on board, Harry and Louis hadn’t wanted to come out, they didn’t want to be That Gay Boy Band, and the boys had gone along with whatever they wanted, and management was never going to want them to come out anyway, but this past year – all the denials and PR stunts and the _distance_ and every stupid thing they’ve been told to do – it’s just been too much. Harry misses early last year, when he and Louis could just muck around and be themselves and not worry about all of this shit so much.

Harry still doesn’t really want to come out. Well, part of him does, but. He just wants it to be like how it used to be. He mumbles as much into Louis’s skin, and Louis pulls back to look at him.

Louis’s frowning just a bit, probably because there’s nothing he can really do about it – they’ve had this conversation so many times, Harry can probably predict every word – and he ducks in to kiss Harry briefly. “It’ll be different next year,” he says. “I promise, baby. We can go back to how we used to be. We can tell people you’ve moved back in with me. Act like we genuinely get on and not like we barely know each other.”

Harry makes a small noise, a bit of a groan really, because next year is still too far away. He drops his head onto Louis’s shoulder. “I don’t even want to come out. I just want to stop denying it.”

Louis rubs his hands over Harry’s back. “I know, babe,” he says. “Me too.”

“I wish – it’d be so different if,” Harry picks his head up to look at Louis again. “Don’t you sometimes wish...”

“Haz,” Louis says, smiling a bit. “It’d be helpful if you finished your sentences, love.”

Harry sighs. “I just, sometimes I wish I was a girl.”

The smile drops off Louis’s face and he frowns, but it’s not sad like before – more confused. “You want to be a girl?” he asks gently. Carefully. God, Harry loves him.

Harry smiles. “Not like – I mean, yeah, you know I’m not into, like, gender roles, and I dunno, painting my nails is relaxing and, like, girls’ clothes are great – ”

“Particularly the knickers,” Louis says helpfully, and yeah. They’ve both experimented with cross-dressing, Harry moreso, so Louis’s well aware of his feelings on the subject.

“It’s not like I want to be a girl, I’m happy being a boy, but,” Harry frowns, his lips pursed. “Sometimes I _wish_ I was, because this would be – like, can you imagine if I was a girl from the start? People would’ve assumed we were together but it wouldn’t’ve been a thing. A problem. We could’ve been open from the start and barely gotten any shit for it.”

“Well, I mean,” Louis says. “It’s not like girls _don’t_ get shit on. Can you imagine how much worse the Harry Styles, Sex Addict stuff would be if you were a girl?”

“Well,” Harry says, frowning some more. “Okay. But maybe not, not if I had a boyfriend the whole time?”

Louis grins. “Babe, girl or not, I think that famous Styles charm would still make everyone think you want to sleep with them.”

“But I can’t help that, that’s just my face!” Harry cries, and Louis laughs, and it feels better. Lighter. “Okay, so it wouldn’t be perfect. Still think it’d be better.”

“Maybe, but it’s not like it’s possible,” Louis says. “And besides, I’m pretty attached to you as you are. So no, I don’t wish you were a girl. I wouldn’t want to change anything about you just to make my life easier.”

Harry bites his lip. That’s lovely, but – he’s not sure how much he would change, is the thing. Or how much he’d mind. But Louis’s right, it’s not even possible, and that – that, he does kind of mind. God. “Yeah,” he says, smushing his face back into Louis’s skin. “I still wish I was, though.”

*

Harry feels odd when he wakes up. It’s early, just gone seven, so he figures he must just be hungry. That, and, wow, he fell asleep fully dressed last night. He doesn’t even remember the last time that happened – that must be it. Louis’s still fast asleep, so Harry carefully slides himself out of his arms and pads into the kitchen.

Sometimes they stay in hotels like this one, that are more like apartments. This one’s got a lounge, kitchen, and dining space, as well as two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Usually they’d split up so Harry and Louis still had an entire hotel room to themselves, but after yesterday, they’d all wanted to stick together. After sitting through the interview with him, Liam and Niall had been particularly adamant about not leaving Harry. And when they were split up for the ride to the hotel – Harry was with Niall and Zayn, moping with his head on Zayn’s shoulder, and Niall spent most of the trip trying to cheer him up. They’ve got today off, so Zayn had suggested they all stay up late in a cuddle pile watching feel-good movies – and then Harry and Louis passed out early and ruined that plan.

Niall’s snoring on the fold-out couch, and Harry smiles over at his spreadeagled form as he makes himself some toast and tea. He guesses Liam and Zayn are still asleep in the room with the twin beds.

Once his toast pops and his tea’s ready, he’s woken up quite a bit. Liam wanders out when Harry’s taking his last bite, and it’s weird – he’s not hungry, and he still feels strange. Different. Something’s different.

“Hey babe,” Liam says quietly, so as not to wake Niall, and it’s – well, it’s not unusual for them to call each other babe, but Harry can’t quite remember the last time Liam called him that.

“Morning,” Harry says anyway, and then blinks, startled. His voice isn’t – it’s sleepy, yeah, but he’s drunk half his tea now, and it’s – it’s not _his voice_. It’s slow but it’s not as deep.

Maybe he’s hearing things. Harry decides to talk more. He clears his throat. “Did you sleep well?”

And, okay, fuck. No, that is not his voice. It sounds a bit like him, but it also – it sounds sort of like Gemma, actually. What the fuck?

Harry looks down at his body then. His hands look pretty much the same, and his forearms, but – this isn’t his shirt. It’s long-sleeved, rolled up to the elbows and baggy, and usually most of his clothes aren’t actually his, but he doesn’t even recognise this. And he knows he didn’t go to bed wearing it. Not to mention – wait.

He’s grown _boobs_.

How did he not realise this? Like, they’re small, Harry’s not the best guesser at cup sizes but he’d say a B at best – but they’re definitely boobs. He cups them a bit, absolutely stunned.

He’s never been more grateful they’ve got the day off.

“Er, Harry?” Liam says. Harry jolts and looks up at him, realising he’s tuned out everything Liam’s been saying. And also that he’s still holding his boobs. He drops his hands. Liam looks really confused. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Harry asks. Oh God, wow, his voice. He needs a mirror. And also he needs to see if he still has his dick. But first – like, surely it’s obvious to Liam if he’s not a boy anymore? Why hasn’t he said anything?

“Uh... Should I be freaking out?” Liam looks so lost. “I – is something the matter? What’s going on?”

“Let me just,” Harry frowns. “Liam, am I a girl?”

Liam still looks confused, but he laughs. “Have been for as long as I’ve known you,” he says. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

Harry blinks at him. “Okay,” he says. “I’ve got to – toilet. Okay.” He scrambles up from the table and into the main bathroom – the other’s just an en suite to his and Lou’s room, but he needs to figure out his own reaction before he sees Louis’s – and he shuts the door behind him.

Okay. He braces himself against the sink and stares at himself, because – yep. He’s definitely changed.

His hair, for one, is – there’s so much of it. It’s piled on top of his head in a bun, but he can tell. He tugs out the hair tie and it spills down his back, tangled and clearly in need of a wash but curly as ever. His fringe is shorter than it was yesterday – kind of like how it used to be. He gets closer to the mirror – eyes are the same, nose is the same, mouth’s the same. They’re all still too big for his face. He grins to check his dimples. Yep. His face really hasn’t changed much at all. His eyebrows are neater. His skin is smoother. That’s about it.

Okay, moving on then. He can see his birds peeking out from under his shirt, and he needs to see the rest of his tattoos, so he pulls his shirt off. And, okay. That’s – he has boobs. That’s still gonna take some getting used to. He likes them, he decides. They don’t quite fill his hands but he imagines Louis’s smaller hands around them and – he likes that. A lot. Okay.

He’s still got his extra nipples, which pleases him. And the butterfly’s still there, spread above his belly button, and – he’s still skinny as ever, actually possibly skinnier. His shoulders are definitely narrower. So he’s a lanky beanpole as a girl, too. That’s good to know.

The birds are higher, he thinks, to accommodate his boobs, but mostly everything’s the same – although. There are a few tattoos on his arms he doesn’t recognise. He wonders – and looks around for Louis’s name, or birthday, or the letter L, anything – but he doesn’t find it. Weird. He doesn’t know if he’s woken up as a girl in his world, or – judging by Liam’s non-reaction and these new tattoos – in some other universe altogether, but then... why would he not have more obvious tattoos for Louis? Are they not public here either? Are they – God help him, are they even together?

Then he sees their anniversary along the stem of the rose on his forearm and smiles. Okay. Of course they’re together.

So – he’s stalling, he realises. He doesn’t think he’s ready to look into his shorts and not see his dick. It’s frankly terrifying. But he needs to know, so he takes a deep breath and pulls his shorts down.

And – yeah. He has a – God, it’s bizarre. He doesn’t even remember the last time he saw a vagina in the flesh. And it’s _his_.

It’s, like, nice-looking, as far as vaginas go. His pubic hair is still trimmed, which is interesting. Clearly he’s still too lazy to shave much as a girl too. That’s kind of comforting.

It’s weird not seeing his dick, and it’s even weirder when he ventures his hand down and feels flat skin and coarse hair. It’s weird not having anything to curl his fingers around. He can’t really bring himself to properly touch himself. He wants – shit, he wants to do it with Louis, but now he’s scared more than anything of being in this strange world with a Louis who thinks he’s always been a girl.

“Harry?” Niall’s voice comes from outside. “You almost finished, I need’a take a piss.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, snapping out of it. He pulls his shorts up and puts his shirt back on. Rumples up his hair a bit. It’s kind of nice having long hair. Probably be nicer once he washes it, but.

He lets Niall in, who doesn’t seem fazed at all by his hair or his boobs, so like – yeah. Reaffirming his earlier suspicions. He leaves the bathroom, sees Liam still in the kitchen, and turns towards the bedrooms. And – he chickens out and opens the door to Zayn’s room.

Zayn’s still asleep, of course, and Harry crawls in with him. He needs comfort and he’s not prepared to get it from Louis yet.

Zayn grumbles as Harry curls into his arms, but once Harry’s got them settled he nuzzles into Harry’s hair. “S’wrong?” he mumbles.

“Nothing, it’s okay,” Harry says. “G’back to sleep.”

“’Kay,” Zayn says, and he’s out again instantly. Harry tries not to laugh.

He lies there for a long time; he can’t fall back asleep, but he almost can’t bear to be alone with his thoughts. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s going to have to tell them, obviously – he can’t keep secrets from Louis anyway. He just – they’re going to think he’s gone mad. And Louis – yeah, this is what Harry’d said he wanted, but he doesn’t want it with a Louis who doesn’t know him. He didn’t want to just be dropped into this, this life that they all have without him.

And worse, what if it is his Louis, somehow, and what if he’s not attracted to Harry like this? Harry thinks that could kill him.

He knows there’s probably not much difference between girl Harry and himself, but it – it still feels like he’s in a stranger’s body.

*

He has no idea how long he’s laid there – he might have fallen asleep again for a bit, he’s not sure – but eventually he hears Louis’s sleepy voice asking where he is.

He gets up and pads over to the door, steels himself and opens it. He’s got his head ducked down, his hands clasped behind his back and his toes turned inward. He looks up, almost shyly, and Louis – Louis’s gaping at him. Harry smiles. Thank God, it’s his Louis, and all thoughts of his Louis not loving him anymore fly out of his head in his relief.

“ _Harry_? What the – what the fuck _happened_ to you?”

Harry can hear Niall questioning that, can hear Liam asking why everyone’s acting weird today, but he doesn’t care – he runs across the room and flings himself into Louis’s arms.

“Oh God, Lou, I was so worried you wouldn’t – Liam didn’t think anything of it and I was so worried you’d be the same, I – ”

“Okay,” Louis says, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Slow down, love, what are you talking about? And why the hell do you look like...?” he trails off, gesturing to Harry’s hair and chest.

“Right,” Harry says, but he’s so giddy that this is still _his Louis_ , he can’t stop grinning. “Well, yeah, basically, I’m a girl? Or, like. I’m supposed to be. Here.”

Louis still looks confused, and Liam says, “Wait, what?”

“Eh, ignore them,” Niall says. “S’probably a prank.”

“It’s not,” Harry says, then focuses back on Louis. “I think this is, like, some sort of weird alternate universe? Where I was born a girl? And like, obviously we’re still together,” he shows Louis their anniversary next to his rose. Louis runs his fingers over it, almost reverent.

“I don’t get it,” Liam’s saying.

“Remember what I said last night?” Harry asks Louis.

Louis looks back up at him. He looks a bit awestruck. “Yeah,” he says.

“I wished for it,” Harry says softly.

“You did,” Louis says. Then he smiles. “Jesus, Styles. Couldn’t’ve just wished for a world without homophobia, could you? Had to go and swap your entire body.”

Harry laughs. “Well, not entirely, I mean, I still have all my nipples.”

Louis cracks up, covering his face with his hands.

“Would one of you please explain yourselves!” Liam explodes.

“Erm,” Harry says. “Maybe we should wake up Zayn.”

*

They’re all sat around the dining table, Louis’s very nicely made everyone tea, and Zayn’s still barely awake. Liam had dragged him out of bed – probably much gentler than his marching in there would’ve implied, he’s never been able to wake Zayn roughly – while Louis had stood hesitantly running his fingers over Harry’s face.

Now Harry’s anxiously trying to comb the knots out of his hair with his fingers, trying to figure out how to tell his boys he’s not the girl they know. Louis pulls his hand away from his hair and laces their fingers together. That helps.

“Right, so,” Harry says. “I’m not – we’re not from here, basically. I’m usually a boy? I dunno how it is here, but for us, we all met on the X Factor and now we’ve had two number one albums?”

“Yes,” Liam says slowly. Zayn looks slightly more awake and Niall’s smiling like he’s waiting for the punchline. “That’s... what happened. Harry, are you feeling okay?”

“Why’s your name still Harry?” Louis wonders. “That short for something?” he asks Liam.

“Harriet, obviously,” Liam says. He looks properly concerned now. “You know that. Did you hit your head?”

“This isn’t very funny, guys,” Niall says, his smile fading.

“I’m not joking!” Harry says. “Fuck. Last night, my full legal name was Harry Edward Styles, and I promise you I had a dick – ”

“A very nice one,” Louis interjects helpfully.

“Thanks, love,” Harry says. “And now I’ve very definitely not got a dick and we’ve apparently been thrown into this world where everyone thinks I’m a girl!”

“So what you’re saying is,” Zayn says, rubbing his eyes. “You’re not a girl?”

“Well, yes, that, but,” Harry says. “I’m also not your Harry.”

“And I’m not your Louis,” Louis adds.

Liam, Zayn and Niall are all wearing identical expressions of disbelief and concern. It’d be funny if it weren’t so frustrating.

“Look, can you just believe us please?” Harry says, giving up. “I know it sounds mad but for us, back home – we’ve been together since the X Factor and hiding it and lately it’s gotten so hard and last night I wished I was a girl so that we didn’t have to deal with it.”

“And apparently Harry has a fairy godmother, because here we are,” Louis says.

“Okay,” Niall says. “I believe you.”

“What?” Liam says.

“It’s a pretty elaborate prank, mate,” Niall shrugs. “Besides, Harry’s just not that good an actor.”

“Hey,” Harry says.

“I thought something was wrong when you came into my bed s’mornin’,” Zayn says. “And Niall’s got a point.”

They all look at Liam.

“Fine,” Liam huffs. “But this is crazy, just so you know, and if you _are_ joking I’ll kill you.”

“Bit dramatic, Payno,” Louis says, and he nudges Harry, jokes, “Liam’s changed.”

Harry grins, and then giggles at the look on Liam’s face, like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or not, and then Harry realises. “Right, speaking of,” he leans forward. “I want to know what it’s like here. How much has changed? Are we public?”

“Yeah,” Niall says. “Have been since, um... just after the X Factor tour, maybe?”

“Yeah,” Zayn nods. “It was definitely before we released What Makes You Beautiful.”

“It was right before we recorded the album,” Liam says, sighing like he can’t believe he’s helping. He wrinkles his nose. “Don’t you remember, they kept sneaking off to have extremely loud celebratory sex?”

Louis grins and Harry laughs. “Sounds like us.”

He can’t help feeling a twinge of envy, though, because Jesus, that was so long ago.

“Wait,” Louis says. “You said What Makes You – so we still have all the same songs? How did that – like, there are so many references to girls on the first album...”

“Uh, no there’s not,” Liam says.

“Our songs have pretty much always been, like, what’s it – gender neutral,” Zayn says.

“Why would Harry Styles be singing to a girl?” Niall says, in what is obviously an impression of Simon.

Louis laughs. “Brilliant question, mate.”

Niall ends up grabbing his laptop off the futon so he can Youtube their videos. They go in chronological order, because as curious as Harry is about whether Zayn still played Veronica in Best Song Ever, he’s _really_ curious to see what What Makes You Beautiful looked like when one of the singers was a girl.

Turns out it’s not that different. They’re still on the same beach, still messing about like idiots, the girls are still there – except there’s a guy with them. Okay. Harry assumes the girl version of himself will be singing his solo to that guy later, then. The weirdest part about it is actually that it’s so similar to the video he knows; it’s just like he’s been cut out and replaced by this younger version of the girl he saw in the mirror.

She’s cute, maybe cuter than he is now. Though that might just be because her hair’s perfectly curly and she’s all made up and stuff. She’s styled plainly enough, wearing denim shorts and a plaid shirt, open to a v-neck tee, and it makes Harry smile. He used to dress pretty casual back then, it makes sense that she would too.

It’s strange how he starts thinking of her as a different person.

And then his solo comes up, and Harry prepares to see himself serenade a random guy – but it’s _Louis._ Louis’s standing where Madison did in their video, and Harry saunters up to him singing about how he flips his hair and smiles at the ground, and there’s a shot of Lou grinning, and they’re so close Harry thinks they’ll kiss, and then the camera cuts away.

Harry blinks, and he whips his head to stare at Louis, who looks as shocked as Harry feels.

“It – that was _me_ ,” Louis says, so quiet it’s almost a whisper.

“I got to – how did I get to do that?” Harry asks.

“It wasn’t in the treatment,” Liam says. “You were supposed to sing to that one bloke, I dunno if you saw him – ”

“And Harry, I think it was your idea to change it,” Niall says. “You were all pouty about how you wanted to sing to Louis, and Louis made us all kick up a fuss ‘til it happened so you’d feel better.”

Most of the other videos are about the same; all that’s really different are Harry’s clothes and the fact that he and Louis are different people. Live While We’re Young is funny purely because Harry’s shirt is soaked and see-through, and they’d clearly tried to edit it so you can’t see. Little Things is nice, because the camera doesn’t try to hide when Louis and Harry are singing to each other.

And then they get to Kiss You. At one point in the middle of it, Louis kisses Harry on the side of her head, and her smile is so bright it’s blinding. And then it comes to an end, and as Harry says the final, “ _and let me kiss you_ ,” instead of Zayn grabbing her head, Harry turns Louis’s face towards hers and kisses him full on the mouth.

It’s only a peck, close-mouthed, and only lasts a few seconds, but it’s – it feels monumental.

This is the life they should have lived. Everything’s so similar except for those small changes, but those changes would just – Harry can’t even imagine how freeing it must be.

One Way Or Another is like a completely different video. He remembers never being grouped with Louis for any of their video, but Harry is always with Louis in this one. None of it’s even couple-y stuff, just them messing about, but it’s exactly what Harry had been missing last night. And then they get to Best Song Ever – Harry had almost forgotten his curiosity about whether he’d ended up playing Veronica. He remembers Ben’s insistence that Zayn do it, wonders how that treatment happened here.

But, no – the video starts just the same, and there’s Zayn, all done up like a sexy lady secretary. And then Louis calls _Marceline_ in, and there’s Harry – hair straightened and pulled up harshly, thick glasses, full nerd attire. Huh.

This is the first song where Harry actually pays attention to the lyrics – it’s the first video that actually references a girl, he thinks. Except it doesn’t – it’s all ‘you’ instead of ‘her’, the ‘her’ in the chorus is ‘it’ (which they have to inflect quite creatively on for even a semblance of a rhyme), and the Georgia Rose line is changed to something like “ _said you lived in Georgia South_ ”, which, what does that even mean? Like, Atlanta? At least Harry still got the dirty mouth line – she looks happy with it, too, of course she does – but what’s weird is it’s not Harry pulling Zayn close to dance, it’s Liam.

But then, of course it’s not, that’d be too gay, obviously. Typical.

“Okay,” Harry says when it’s over.

“That was weird, yeah?” Louis asks him quietly.

“Yeah,” Harry says. “But it was also... What Makes You Beautiful and Little Things and Kiss You, that’s – that’s how it should’ve been, Lou. I dunno, it just makes me sad that we didn’t... that we’ll never get that.”

Louis looks worried, and ducks in to kiss the corner of his mouth. Harry looks up and sees the other boys frowning.

“You know it’s not a fairytale here, right?” Niall says. At some point during their viewing the boys seemed to really start to believe them; their reactions probably couldn’t’ve been faked. Harry feels a moment of gratitude for his boys – probably anybody else would’ve written the whole thing off.

“Harry takes so much crap it’s unbelievable,” Zayn says softly. “Like, first, Louis has so many fans who think they’ll marry him, so that’s a chunk of our actual fanbase that genuinely hates you, Harry. Twitter is a madhouse. And then there’s the media – ”

“You can’t be seen with a guy without people saying you’re cheating on Lou,” Liam says. “It gets really out of hand, like, all the time, and sometimes management like to milk it for PR, which – ”

“Which is disgusting,” Niall says, looking actually angry. “And it might be even worse on the odd occasion Louis’s seen with a girl, because then people like to start comparing her to Haz, saying the other girl’s prettier and all this shit – ”

Harry blanches, and Louis grabs his hand.

“That’s fucking bullshit,” Louis spits, and Harry blinks at him. “Girl or not, he’s fucking gorgeous.”

Harry doesn’t know how to feel about that, but he can’t quite tamper down his soppy smile. He leans against Lou and kisses his shoulder.

“Well of course we know that,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes. “You guys really don’t get it, do you? Harry gets more shit than all of us put together. You’re not even the most popular one, but you’re always in the spotlight, they’re always picking to pieces what you’re wearing and how you look and who you’re with.”

“They’re always looking for any cracks in your relationship,” Niall says.

“They like to call her a diva, even though she’s obviously nothing like,” Liam says. “And that’s not even the half of it.”

“When you say ‘they’,” Harry says, swallowing down how ill he suddenly feels. “Do you mean the press or our fans?”

“Both,” Zayn says, looking all remorseful. “I mean, more the media, they’re awful, but it’s both, Haz, I’m sorry.”

“Just – wait a second,” Louis says. “What do you mean, Harry’s not the most popular one? Of course he is.”

Zayn shakes his head. “No, I mean, it’s probably Niall? Everyone loves him, he’s the favourite. Liam’s the ladies man, Louis, you’re the romantic one everyone wants to be their boyfriend, and I’m, I dunno, the arty one?”

“You’re the beautiful one,” Liam grins, booping him on the nose. Zayn splutters.

“And what about Harry?” Louis presses.

“Harry’s the girl,” Liam says, losing his smile. “That’s really all she gets, usually.”

“And that’s one of the better things, usually she’s happy to take that,” Niall says. “S’better than bein’ the slut.”

He says it so gently, like it’s something Harry’s actually said before, but Harry can’t help it – tears prick at his eyes and he bites his lip so they don’t fall.

Louis’s arms are around him in an instant, and Niall reaches across the table to squeeze his arm.

“Sorry, Haz,” Niall says. “I mean, on the plus side, there are lots of little girls who look up to you?”

“Right, yeah,” Zayn says. “I mean, you’re brilliant, you know, such a good role model despite what the media says. And you’re so good with the younger ones.”

“Of course he is,” Louis says. “And we – we knew it wouldn’t be perfect here, right Haz?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. He swallows. It’s just a lot to take. “I just don’t like it when people don’t like me.”

Louis kisses his hair. “I know, babe.” He sighs. “If it helps, it seems like this Harry is pretty similar to you. Which means they don’t like her just because she’s a girl. It’s bullshit, babe. In this world or ours, nobody who actually knew you would dislike you. Don’t even waste your energy on them.”

Harry breathes and nods. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Louis says.

Niall claps his hands. “I’ve just remembered, I’ve got a copy of our movie on me laptop! Wanna see?”

They do, of course, so they all move to pile onto Niall’s unmade bed and settle in.

*

The movie is kind of amazing. Harry really likes the girl version of himself. She’s really not that different, is the thing, and it’s funny to see how her style changes in similar ways to how his did. From the concert footage, it seems like she’s graduated to wearing a bandana tied around her hair, whether it’s loose or in a messy bun, and he knows he’s been doing the same thing. There’s also her clear propensity for nakedness. Obviously she’s never shirtless, but she wears tiny croptops and short shorts all throughout the film. Harry wonders if maybe that’s where the slut shaming comes from, and it makes him pretty sad because he can get away with it.

Then there’s his and Lou’s relationship. It’s not off-camera the way it is in their movie, but it’s not the focus either. It’s small things, like they’ll be in bed together when they moan about getting up, or they’ll be cuddled together in the background of shots. Louis goes with Harry home to Cheshire, and their interviews are done in their living room, not in Ben’s kitchen or some random venue.

There’s a quick bit where it is the focus though, and Harry says, “Of course it’s hard, but it’s worth it, I wouldn’t trade a second of it,” and Louis says, “She’s the love of my life.” There are snippets of Zayn and Liam saying they’d always support them no matter what, and Niall says that they’re one of those real, actual perfect couples; “They made me believe in soulmates,” he says sincerely.

“Awww, Niall!” Louis cries, and Harry flings himself across Louis to squeeze Niall’s head.

“Gerroff me!” Niall yells, flailing his arms about. “I didn’t even mean it!” When Harry lets him go, he’s bright red and grinning. Harry loves him.

“And _you_ ,” Harry says, turning on Louis and poking his cheek. “ _Love of my life_ , what an adorable sap you are!”

Louis huffs. “Obviously this Louis is nothing like me. I don’t care for you one bit.”

Harry laughs, because from what they’ve seen, this Louis is exactly like his Louis. “Whatever you say, sweetums.”

By the time they’ve finished the film, Harry feels all glowy and warm with how much he loves these boys. He doesn’t know how to feel about this world, where his relationship is more accepted but he himself isn’t – but he isn’t quite in the mood to dwell on it. He’s more than ready for some alone time with his boy.

Louis seems to catch on; he stands up, yawning and stretching exaggeratedly, and says, “Well, I think Harold and I are in need of a quick nap.”

“Harold?” Niall echoes, sounding both amused and confused.

“You just woke up,” Liam says.

“Don’t think we don’t know what you’ll really be doing,” Zayn says.

Louis pulls Harry to his feet. “Well that’s your problem, innit, I gave you a perfectly reasonable excuse.”

“Naps aren’t generally as loud as yours tend to be,” Liam calls as Louis drags Harry into their bedroom. Louis just flips him off before he shuts the door.

*

Harry doesn’t even remember the last time he was this nervous around Louis. Maybe he’s never been. He stands by the bed, feeling awkward as hell, and Louis’s standing by the door, which is – there’s way too much space between them. Harry’s second-guessing is at an all-time high; he’s just wondering whether his Louis could even love him as a girl when Louis says, “Fuck this,” and tackles him onto the bed.

“Oof,” Harry says, completely caught off-guard, but he’s laughing. This is how it should be.

“That’s better,” Louis says, grinning down at him. “Much better when you’re laughing.”

Harry smiles back, knowing it’s his fond Louis smile, then drops his eyes to ask quietly, “Even when I’m like this?”

“Babe,” Louis says, and Harry doesn’t need to look back up at him to know he’s frowning. He does anyway. “I’m gonna love you when you’re eighty and you’ve lost all your hair and your stories are absolutely nonsensical, do you really think you being a girl would change anything?”

The smile threatens to take over Harry’s entire face. “I guess not,” he says. He pauses. “How different is it, though?”

“I dunno,” Louis says, running his thumb over Harry’s jaw. “I mean, you’re still you, you know? You don’t even look that different. And you’re – I mean, you know my sexuality is basically just – they’re fit, I want them – but I basically stopped giving a shit about other people once I met you, and even still I don’t think I’ve ever been this attracted to any girl before.”

Harry wants to tease him for that making probably less sense than anything Harry’s ever said, but all the air seems to’ve left him. And there’s this tug in his groin which is so familiar and yet so new at the same time.

Louis kisses him then, gentler than he would usually, and Harry pushes up, turns it open-mouthed and dirty in an instant. Louis pushes him down into the mattress and Harry’s not exactly smaller than him now, but there’s something about Louis holding him down when he’s skinnier and not as muscled that’s so hot. And Harry also loves the feeling of his boobs pressed against Louis’s chest, even through their shirts.

He tugs at Louis’s shirt, breaks away to say, “Off,” and Louis pulls it over his head and throws it away, going right back to kissing him. That’s when Harry realises Louis’s hands are still on his face, that he’s touching Harry like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to, and that won’t do.

“Lou, c’mon,” Harry almost whines, pulling at his own shirt. “I need to – ”

“Yeah, okay,” Louis breathes, helping him pull it off, and – God, Louis’s face. Harry hadn’t considered that Louis hasn’t actually seen him naked like this. He holds himself up so he can just stare at Harry’s boobs, which – the awe on his face is amazing, but Harry would really rather Louis was touching him.

“Lou, please,” Harry says, and Louis looks up at him quickly, his grin lightning fast, and then he’s tracing his thumbs over Harry’s nipples, his face as reverent as he’d been earlier with Harry’s tattoo. Harry’s nipples are perkier and puffier and maybe even more sensitive than they used to be, and he can’t help dropping his head back on the mattress and pushing his entire body up against Louis.

Louis groans and Harry’s got his eyes closed so it’s a surprise when Louis’s mouth fits over one of his nipples. Harry can feel his tongue and then he sucks, and Harry’s eyes actually roll back. It’s just – it’s not that different to before, but it _is_ , and it’s –

“What’s it like, Haz?” Louis asks. He’s off his nipples now, trailing kisses down his stomach. “Being turned on, I mean?”

“It’s, oh God,” he groans as Louis stops to lick a line along his hipbone. “It’s like, I wanna be fucked so bad, I want you inside me so bad, but I also just wanna rub against you? I dunno – ”

“Jesus,” Louis says, and when Harry looks down he’s staring back up at him, eyes sort of glassy. He pulls at the waistband of Harry’s shorts. “Can I? Please?”

“Yeah,” Harry says breathlessly. “Anything. Whatever you want.”

“Jesus,” Louis says again, and then Harry’s shorts are off, and Louis takes a moment to stare at him, which makes Harry squirm. In, like, a good way. Because he’s got Louis’s rapt attention. And it’s surprising, how he’s not self-conscious at all. Not that he ever really has been, but he thinks it would probably be expected of someone in his position. Maybe it helps that this is as new to him as it is to Louis.

And then Louis’s mouth is on him, like, right where he’s wanted it, all wet pressure and it’s incredible, Louis’s tongue is like this constantly moving heaviness and it’s like – like his dick was shrunk and in the process became twice as sensitive.

He’d managed to forget that Louis actually knows what he’s doing here, and he’d definitely not expected him to be so good at it – Harry himself has only ever had a few fumbling attempts at fingering girls when he was fifteen, but Louis has had actual girlfriends. He forgets that. And it’s – he’s just so good at it. Harry doesn’t even know what he’s doing but it feels amazing, and the whole world has narrowed to Louis’s mouth between his legs. He has no idea if he can come like this – he doesn’t know what it takes to make this body come, and he still wants to be fucked, so so badly, but – even if it didn’t feel so good, the way Louis’s going at it like he can’t get enough would bring him close.

Louis pulls off before Harry can find out, though, and he crawls back up and kisses Harry. And Harry can taste himself, which – he tastes so different, it’s so weird to find this foreign taste in Louis’s mouth and know it’s himself, but it’s still so hot.

Their chests are finally pressed together and the drag of Harry’s nipples against Louis’s bare chest is driving him mad. Louis’s running his hands over Harry’s sides like he can’t stop touching him, and he says, “Fuck, Haz, I just wanna see you come,” and he slides a hand back down to Harry’s clit. Being touched again after that brief break makes it feel a thousand times _more_ , somehow, and Louis’s got one hand rubbing his clit, the other thumbing his nipple and his tongue in Harry’s mouth and it’s all so much, it really doesn’t take Harry long to come.

Coming in this body is different, too; his legs spasm more, his thighs tighten around Louis and he can’t stop his hips jerking. And the feeling is – he can’t really compare it to orgasms he’s had before, can’t say if it’s better, it’s just – different. It’s amazing. Even as he’s coming down he wonders how many he could have in one go.

Louis keeps a hand on him until he’s wriggling with how sensitive he is, and then he’s shoving his own shorts down. Harry has a second to feel bad for neglecting him before Louis kneels on his stomach and asks, “Can I come on your tits?”

Harry bursts out laughing, knowing Louis phrased it like that to make him laugh, and says, “How long’ve you wanted to ask me that, Tomlinson?” while Louis grins at him, already stroking himself like that’s an answer. “Go on, then,” Harry says, reaching out to hold Louis in place and ending up with handfuls of his arse.

Louis groans, rocking back into Harry’s hands and forward into his own fist, and it’s as fascinating as any time Harry’s ever watched Louis jerk off, only more so when he comes all over Harry’s boobs. And it’s weird, because the sight makes him feel like he should have a boner, it’s so hot, but he doesn’t feel – he feels like he could go again, definitely, but he doesn’t feel the same urgency he would if he had a dick.

Meanwhile, Louis’s trailing his fingers across Harry’s nipples, through his own come, like he’s in a daze. Harry laughs. “You alright there, love?”

“Mmm,” Louis says. He rolls off Harry and curls around his side, while Harry gropes at their bedside table for some tissues.

*

Harry loses track of how long they lie there, sleepy enough that they could nap but too awake to, until Louis decides they should get ice cream. Harry’s whining about it but he’s going to give in, obviously, and then Louis says, like he’s just realised, “Hey, we can hold hands in public,” and Harry sits up.

“Let’s go,” he says, and Louis laughs.

Looking for clothes is an experience. The other Harry seems to dress pretty similarly to him – skintight jeans and baggy jumpers, shirts, and blouses seem to be her standard wardrobe – but it’s not every day Harry can get away with wearing cute girly stuff and that’s what he wants today. He finds some knickers and a summer dress in her suitcase, and – underneath the dress, he finds a strap-on.

“Oh,” he says, and then giggles to himself. Well, of course. “Hey Lou, come look at this.”

Louis comes back in from the bathroom and bursts into laughter. “Of course,” he says. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Harry turns to put it back in the suitcase, and when he looks back, Louis’s staring at him.

“What?” he asks.

“Just – come here,” Louis says, and Harry does. “Turn around.” Harry frowns, but does. Louis pushes his hair over his shoulder – most of it’s already there, over one side, but Louis moves all of it – and then he gasps.

“What?” Harry says. “What is it?”

“Tattoo,” Louis manages, and Harry can feel his fingers moving lightly on the back of his neck.

“Take a photo?” Harry asks, because Louis’s already got his jeans on and Harry assumes his phone’s in his pocket.

Louis takes the photo and hands the phone to him without a word, and then his fingers go back to Harry’s neck, and Harry looks.

It’s Louis’s handwriting, and it says _you make me strong_. There’s a tug in Harry’s gut and he very suddenly wants to cry. It’s _so beautiful._

He starts to turn to face Louis, but Louis stops him halfway. He thinks Louis’s just not finished staring at his back, but no, his fingers are running over Harry’s exposed hairline behind his ear.

“There’s an L here,” Louis says softly, and Harry turns. He looks wrecked, amazed and devastated, and Harry hugs him fiercely.

“Fuck, Lou,” he says. “I didn’t think – I couldn’t see any on my arms so I didn’t think we’d gotten any obvious ones. It’s – this is so much – ”

“Do you think I have one?” Louis asks, and Harry hates to let him go to check, but he _has_ to.

He steps back and spins Louis around, and – yep. There it is, on the back of Louis’s neck in Harry’s loopy handwriting: _you and I forever_. Harry gives a watery laugh and says, “Lou, shit,” then takes a photo with the phone he’s still holding.

Louis’s eyes go big when sees it. “Oh God,” he says, looking up at Harry with wet eyes. “This is – _Haz_.”

“I know,” Harry says, and Louis drops the phone and flings his arms around Harry.

*

They finally, finally leave for ice cream, after they separate to get dressed and Louis sees Harry in his knickers and decides to get him off again. Then Harry realises he should probably shower, and then takes an age to dry his hair. When they leave their room, the boys are nowhere to be seen, which isn’t really surprising.

Walking down the street holding Louis’s hand is almost as good as finding the tattoos. Harry’s pretty sure it feels better than the two spectacular orgasms he’s had today. It’s just – nobody gives a shit, is the thing, and Louis keeps beaming massively at Harry like he can’t help it, and it’s – this is what he’d wanted. This is what he wants.

Everything’s perfect until they leave the ice cream shop and run into a group of young girls.

They’re all yelling for Louis, which honestly rather pleases Harry, he often thinks Louis is under-appreciated, but most of them are also glaring at Harry, which feels really odd. Harry can’t quite remember the last time a teenage girl looked at him like that.

Some of them want pictures with him, but most of them ask him to take pictures of them with Louis. Harry smiles and is happy to go along with it, really, but Louis looks confused.

“You’re my favourite, Louis,” one of them says, and the one he’s taking a picture with kisses him on the cheek, then stares at Harry defiantly after the photo.

He’s distracted from it when another girl, separate to the group, taps him on the arm. She shyly asks for a photo, and afterwards she says, “I just want you to know I think you’re amazing and you’re my hero,” and it warms Harry’s heart. He doesn’t care if he only has one fan to Louis’s seven or so. He feels like that’s only fair, actually, because Louis deserves it.

Before they leave, though, the girl who’d kissed him gives Louis a piece of paper and says, “You should call me, you deserve so much better than that slut,” and Louis looks like he’s been slapped. Harry’s mouth drops open.

“Seriously? Why the fuck would you – do you really think you’re going to endear yourself to me by calling the person I’ve been with for three years, the _love of my life_ , something like that? Are you serious?”

Louis is so angry, and he crumples up the paper and drops it, and all Harry wants to do is get him home and press kisses all over his face. The girl looks shocked, and while she’s stuttering Harry grabs Louis’s hand.

“C’mon, babe, d’you wanna go?” Harry asks, and Louis nods. He looks shellshocked himself.

“No fan of mine would ever hate Harry,” Louis manages to spit out before Harry drags him away.

They get away from the girls, who seem too stunned to follow, and walk in silence for a bit, until Louis asks quietly, “Are you okay?”

“’M fine, Lou,” he says, and Louis gives him a disbelieving look. Harry smiles. “No, I am. I’m – surprised, maybe, that she’d think that was okay, but – are _you_ okay?”

“I guess,” Louis mutters. “Just, what the fuck?”

“I know,” Harry says, and that’s all they say because Louis’s still upset and Harry just wants to hug him.

Like that wasn’t bad enough, there’s a pap outside the hotel, and he yells, “Hey Harry, you were seen with Liam Hemsworth last week, what’s he like in bed?”

Harry looks to Louis with wide eyes, and Louis grits his teeth and yanks Harry towards the hotel door.

“Louis, how’s it feel to know your girlfriend’s sleeping around?” the pap tries again, and Louis stops. Harry tries to tug him inside the doors, but Louis’s having none of it.

He turns and says, “ _You_ know nothing about my girlfriend. She is the sweetest, most genuine person I’ve ever met, and _you_ are a lowlife scumbag. Go fuck yourself.” Then he storms inside, pulling Harry behind him.

*

They curl up together in the hotel bed. Louis can’t seem to stop shaking.

“I love you,” Harry says, pressing kisses to his cheeks and eyelids. “Love you so much, Lou, and it’s all bullshit, you know that. They don’t even know me – and it’s not even about _me_ , really – and they don’t know us. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Louis says. “It’s so fucked up. And so unfair.”  
  
“It is, a bit,” Harry agrees. “It’s not all bad, though, did you see that girl I was talking to? She said I was her hero.” He shrugs. “S’probably why I can handle it, here. S’pose it’s worth it if I get that reaction from even one in a hundred fans.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Louis frowns. “How are you not more upset?”

“I dunno,” Harry says honestly. “I guess it just. It pales in comparison to being able to hold your hand?”

The frown melts off Louis’s face until his expression says plainly, _I love you, you massive idiot_. “You are the biggest sap alive.”

“Whatever,” Harry says. “You told that girl I was the love of your life.”

“Well,” Louis says, and his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he closes his eyes. “Figured it’d be my one chance to say it in public.”

“Sap,” Harry says, and kisses him.

*

The rest of the day is spent ordering room service and watching old episodes of Cake Boss. Harry makes the mistake of looking at Twitter, because it’s like second nature, and his mentions have blown up. Apparently word about what happened earlier has gotten around; he gathers that one of the girls recorded it, and although there are a lot of people shaming her for what she said, there are just as many calling Louis a douche for treating his fans like that. Not to mention the massive number of people who’re saying that she was right.

It’s a lot to take, and if Louis hadn’t decided to confiscate his phone, Harry probably would’ve spiraled into googling himself.

Harry sulks for the rest of the episode, and when it’s over Louis decides to go to Youtube and search for their interviews. Watching this alternate, _open_ version of themselves cheers Harry up immensely; it’s also fairly addictive, and they spend about an hour clicking through old interviews. This Harry and Louis just seem so happy, so affectionate and careless with their touches and their anecdotes. Instead of making Harry jealous and sad, like it did this morning, it’s just nice to see.

In real life, though, Louis hasn’t been able to take his hands off Harry for the last few videos. He’s trailing his fingers over Harry’s thigh and it’s incredibly distracting, and when the video they’re watching ends, Harry moves the laptop to the floor and rolls on top of him.

“Hi,” Louis says, grinning up at him.

“Hi,” Harry says. “You did that on purpose.”

“You can’t prove anything,” Louis says, running his hands from Harry’s back to cup his arse.

“ _Louuuuu_ ,” Harry whines.

Louis gives up his pretense. “You’re just so fucking hot, yeah? I never want to stop touching you.”

Harry bites his lip. He can’t believe how random the bouts of insecurity he’s getting are, but – “Not more than when I’m a boy, though, right?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “No, idiot,” he says, smiling fondly. “The same amount, just, in a different way? S’just something new, I guess. S’like whenever we’ve tried anything new, really.”

“Mmm, okay,” Harry says, rolling his hips down a bit.

They kiss lazily for a while, but – Louis had taken his jeans off ages ago, so he’s only in his pants, and sitting in his lap like this means Harry’s dress is fanned out around his legs. All that’s between them are their underwear, and it’s weird to not be meeting Louis’s hard-on with his own, but it’s also – having Louis’s dick rub up against him like this is _amazing_. Harry doesn’t know if frottage has ever felt this good before. He can’t help moving his hips over and over and over; he just wants more friction, damn it, and soon Louis is grabbing his hips and gasping out of a kiss.

“Jesus, Harry,” he says, his mouth still catching against Harry’s. “Do you still want me to fuck you?”

Harry grinds down particularly hard at that. “ _Yes_ ,” he says. “Please, Lou, so much, now?”

Louis immediately rolls them over so Harry’s lying down, then gets up in search of condoms. Harry takes the time to get his dress off, but he has a moment just as he’s pulling it over his head where he realises that –

“Lou, I can get pregnant,” he blurts.

Louis’s crawling back onto the bed, and he laughs like he’s surprised. “Yeah, you can,” he says. “But if this is a temporary thing, I’m not sure the other you would be pleased to wake up to that.”

“Why not?” Harry asks dreamily, watching as Louis settles in between his legs. “We could have a baby, Lou. I could be pregnant with your baby, isn’t that amazing?”

Louis chuckles, leaning in to kiss him gently. “We’ve talked about this babe,” he says. “Now’s not the best time. Actually, now’s _really_ not the best time, all things considered.”

Harry sighs. “You’re right,” he says, but he can’t help pouting. “Don’t _wanna_ use a condom, though.”

“Yeah, about that,” Louis says, smiling sheepishly. “They’re not in the pocket I usually keep them? All I had there was this.” He holds up a small bottle of lube. “So, like, gonna assume you’re on birth control?”

“Or maybe we’re trying,” Harry grins.

Louis laughs, shaking his head fondly, then he ducks down and kisses down Harry’s thigh. Harry spreads his legs some more and Louis’s mouth is on him again, licking at his clit through his lacy blue knickers. Harry thrusts up a bit, arching his back, and Louis presses down. He’s not there for nearly long enough before he’s pulling away to tug his knickers down. Harry’s barely kicked them off before Louis’s mouth is back on him, so wet and eager like he could do this all night.

“God, fuck, Lou,” Harry says, his hands sliding into Louis’s hair instinctively.

Louis lifts his head at that, and he grins wolfishly at Harry and then very deliberately licks his lips. He’s such a shit.

“Can you just fuck me Lou, please,” Harry says, tugging at Louis’s hair the tiniest bit.

Louis gets up on his knees and squirts some lube out onto his hands. He rubs it onto his flushed cock, and Harry stares, thinking about how he really wants it in his mouth. It’s too bad he wants it inside him even more.

Louis catches him staring and says, “I just don’t wanna hurt you babe. Pretty sure I won’t but don’t wanna take the chance.”

Harry nods, too captivated by his cock for words, and then Louis lines himself up and slides in. It’s so much wetter than Harry’s used to, and there’s no need for an adjustment period like there sometimes used to be. Instead it just feels _good_ , right away, like he’s getting what he needs.

Louis’s paused, checking to see if Harry’s okay, and Harry grabs his hips. “C’mon, babe, I’m good,” he says, shoving up a bit.

Louis groans and starts to swivel his hips like he does when he dances, and soon he’s thrusting hard and fast, leveraging himself on the headboard. Harry slides down a bit to wrap his legs around Louis’s waist, and Louis leans down to kiss him thoroughly, his pace not slowing at all.

“Wait, wait,” Harry says, pushing at Louis’s hips. “I wanna try something.”

“Really?” Louis groans, slumping onto him.

“Come on,” Harry says. “Sit up against the pillows? Please.”

Louis does, and Harry sits in his lap, straddling him backwards. He slides back down onto Louis’s dick – the change of angle is _amazing_ – and then he pulls his hair over one shoulder. He hears Louis’s sharp intake of breath, and grinds down. Louis moans, pulls Harry flush against him and starts thrusting again. He’s got one hand rubbing at Harry’s clit and the other cupping one of his boobs, and when Harry looks down he sees it looks just as amazing as he thought it would. Then he feels Louis’s lips on the back of his neck, across his tattoo, and he clenches around him as tight as he can.

“Oh, fuck, Haz,” Louis says, speeding up, and he moves his other hand up so both of them are squeezing Harry’s boobs as he slams up into him. He comes with a whine but he doesn’t pull out, and his hand goes back to Harry’s clit. Harry leans back, twists his neck so he can kiss Louis and rides him til he comes. It’s the best orgasm of the day, definitely.

Louis pulls out and manhandles Harry until he’s curled around Louis’s side. Neither of them can quite be bothered to worry about how sticky they’re gonna get.

After a long silence where they do nothing but play with each others’ fingers across Louis’s chest, Louis asks quietly, “Do you still think it’s better here?”

“I dunno,” Harry says, turning his head so he’s looking up at Louis. “I don’t like being hated.”

“I’d rather be home,” Louis says. “I’d rather we were both getting shit on together than people hating you for no real reason.”

Harry makes a small noise of agreement. “This wasn’t really what I had in mind. Maybe if I’d always been a girl it’d be different, but being thrown into this world isn’t – great. Makes home seem better.”

Louis agrees.

“Also, I miss my dick,” Harry says.

Louis laughs. “If I’m being honest, so do I.”

“If we were back home,” Harry says, biting his lip. “As good as it feels to be public, I – I still don’t think I’m ready.”

“Me either,” Louis says. He pauses, then ducks his head. “Maybe I’d want to get the tattoos, though.”

“On our backs?”

“I like them,” Louis says. “I really like them.”

“Me too,” Harry says. “We could. We could do that. Liam did it, after all, with You and I, so.”

“We should,” Louis says.

“Okay,” Harry says. He lies his head down on Louis’s chest, feeling sleepy, and lets Louis’s hand carding through his hair lull him to sleep.

*

He wakes up to Louis’s wide eyes in his face.

“Wuh,” Harry says, pushing Louis’s face away, and Louis whoops.

“You’re you again!” he yells, and Harry sits up, throwing the blanket off. It’s dark, probably the middle of the night, but they’d left the bathroom light on at some point, and it’s enough for Harry to see that yeah, his boobs are gone.

“Lou!” he cries, grinning. “I’m me!”

Louis laughs. “I know!”

Harry’s wearing his shorts and t-shirt from the night before, which is strange since he fell asleep naked. He pulls off his shirt, just to see, and he’s never been happier to see his own bare chest. He beams at Louis, giddy as all hell, and Louis gives him a smacking kiss.

“Wait,” Louis says, and he plucks at the waistband of Harry’s shorts.

Harry pulls his shorts away from his body, enough for the both of them to look in and see his dick. Harry’s relief is basically palpable.

“Hello, old friend,” Louis says warmly, and Harry cracks up. He drops his waistband and wraps his arms around Louis, snuggling in.

“Feel better?” Louis asks.

“Yep,” Harry says happily.

“No more stupid life-changing wishes?” Louis asks.

“Nope,” Harry says.

“Good,” Louis says. “Except, I have one.”

Harry pulls back enough to see him. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm. Still want those tattoos.”

Harry grins so hard his cheeks hurt. “’Kay,” he says. “I can grant that one. Love you.”

“Love you too, you magical little tosser,” Louis says, and he lays them back down and cuddles into Harry, and maybe it’s not great here, but Harry feels like it could be. And he’s got Louis. He’s good.

**Author's Note:**

> the response to this has blown my mind! i never in a million years expected this much kudos. i'm incredibly insecure about my writing, so i appreciate any comments/kudos/bookmarks/notes on the tumblr post, etc, more than any of you will ever know. thank you! and i'm [nobodymoves](http://nobodymoves.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you wanna chat there!


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